Missy Elliott - This Is Not a Test!

I'm Really Hot

Ho (ho), ho (ho), ho (ho), ho (ho)
I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm really, really
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot

Let me holla at the DJ
Come on DJ put that record on the replay
Don't you see how them bitches move they bootay?
Every time you play this record, smell they coochie
Follow dem', screamin' like a groupie
Misdemeanor move my nookie like a hoochay
For them hater, fuck whatever you say
Because you know I'm too cool for you anyway
I'm just a bad bitch

M-I-S, Miss
I'ma keep talkin' shit 'til you get this
I'ma bust up in the club with no guest list
Them other artists, I keep 'em all restless
I don't french kiss unless it's 50 cent
Vivica, we can share him like the president
Tabloids, I don't care, it's irrelevant
I'm heaven sent, now watch how I do this shit

Ho (ho) (I'm, I'm), ho (ho) (I'm), ho (ho)
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot
I'm really, really hot
Every time my records drop
Radio says I won't stop
'Cause I'm killin' em'

You don't know what you talkin' bout
You would think I was Suge when I come out
My album hit hard when I roll out
Y'all records make a bitch wanna throw 'em out
And that's no doubt
See I rock bells, fly as hell and cool as zinfandel, baby can't ya' tell
I lick my lips like I'm L.L
And I'm doin' it, and doin' it, and doin' it well

Straight to the hotel
I'm celibate, so, boy, you gets no tail
Kiss, kiss and still you gets nowhere
Just two blue balls down in yo' underwear, I play unfair
I'm a hot gal, hot cars and stars and strip bars, ain't hot if I'm not there
I'm a true player, you can find me up in any record store, hurry up and get yours

Ho (ho) (I'm, I'm), ho (ho) (I'm), ho (ho)
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot
I'm really, really hot
Every time my records drop
Radio says I won't stop
'Cause I'm killin' 'em

Look, let me move to the left
Go 'head, let me feel myself
Touch my chest, my sweat
Show that DJ how I shake my breast
Jiggle, jiggle, jangle, watch how my gluteus dangle
I do a 1-2 step, stop, no, I ain't done yet

Everybody in the club, go to work
Tight jeans, crop shirts, short skirts
I'ma rock to the beat till' it hurt
I'ma drop it on the street, yeah, ya heard
Haters, I flip the bird
Got guns, so what? I ain't scurred
I came to boogie and swerve
I ain't lyin' folk, that's my word

Ho (ho) (I'm, I'm), ho (ho) (I'm), ho (ho)
Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot
I'm really, really hot
Every time my records drop
Radio says I won't stop
'Cause I'm killin' 'em

Really-ly-ly-ly-ly-ly-ly-ly-hot-hot-hot-hot-hot
Really-ly-ly-ly-ly-ly-ly-ly-hot-hot-hot-hot-hot

Credits
Writer(s): Timothy Z Mosley, Melissa A Elliott, James Todd Smith, Gregory H Callender, Taharqa Z Aleem, Isaac Wright, Tunde Ra Aleem, Shaun D Toureau Le
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